Being Human
by xLazyxWriterx
Summary: *Spoilers for Episode 4* He wasn't anything like Nathan...? No, Max had been right about that. Warren was worse than Nathan. Warren didn't feel human anymore. GrahamScott (Warning: Some Sexual Content)


**Lazy Note: Hey there, Strangers. Some people post on tumblr asking for some make-up sexy time after what happened in episode 4, and since the last thing I wrote was extremely depressing and I still love my GrahamScott, here you go!  
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 **WARNING: THIS ONESHOT IS RATED M FOR SOME SEXUAL CONTENT. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.**

 **Enjoy!**

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 **Being Human  
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 **by**

 **xLazyxWriterx**

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The throbbing ache in his knuckles was only getting worse, and the tightening in his stomach never seemed to cease. The cool air did somewhat soothe his warm skin, but he still felt feverish. Running his fingers through his hair, he felt the moisture that slickened his scalp, and if he kept his finger there he could feel the pulsing of his overworked brain. In fact, his whole body vibrated along with his pounding heart.

He had tried to justify his actions; the guy deserved it, the guy had started it, the guy had hurt him, the guy was going to hurt Max - right? - the guy was mean, the guy was an asshole, the guy was a druggie, the guy was violent, the guy wasn't _human_... And that was when Warren knew he had done something so awful that he tried to justify his bloodied fist with the idea that Nathan Prescott wasn't human. Through his blinded rage and before he had been pulled away, Warren had caught a glimpse of his face, of his pleading eyes.

Nathan had instantly bruised the moment Warren's fist had connected with his face, and through the numbness of his black hatred he could feel the warm liquid of Nathan's blood on his burning flesh, but that didn't stop him. The desperate cries had only echoed in his mind, and Warren couldn't comprehend them at the time. He had been pushing his rage, _his pain_ through body and it ate his own humanity in a matter seconds.

 _"G-get-"_ His voice had been high pitched and cracked, but it didn't break through Warren's clouded mind. _"-off me!"_ Warren didn't let up, though. No, he only became more enraged, and his next few punched collided with Nathan's cheek with the last ounce of his strength. _"Please!"_ Nathan's words only edged him on. _"Please..."_ Just one more time. _"...stop..."_

Warren was pulled back, and he was back on his feet with delicate hands pushing him towards the door. He couldn't breathe, and the air taste of iron and despair. Warren had turned one last time before pushing through the door, and their eyes had met. Nathan's bruised and swollen eyes harvest nothing but horror and agony, and that's what pulled the wool away from Warren's own eyes. He could hear again, and he could truly see. Nathan was in the fetal position, holding his face and sobbing. He had become so small, so fragile, _so human._

Warren ran outside, not bothering to wait for Max or her friend. Once out, he bent over with his hands on his knees, and he gagged. He choked, and he hacked. His hands shook, and he studied his bleeding and swollen fist in horror, in shock. Had... had he really done it? The bruising only smiled back at him as a confirmation.

Max and Chloe had joined him with such gratitude, as if they hadn't just watched him beat another person without mercy. They had thanked him. Max had thanked him, and he had wondered out loud if he had gone crazy... like Nathan. But, he wasn't anything like Nathan, but how true was that at this point? He had managed to smile at Max as they said their goodbyes, but it was only as he was walking away did the realization of his actions truly dawn on him. He had stopped, and stared down at his fists. The only blood that belonged to him was the blood slowly oozing from his knuckles, and it wasn't enough to cover his whole hand.

Rubbing the blood on his pants did nothing. His hands were stained.

His guilt was slowly eating at him, pooling like lit gasoline in his stomach and fired in his chest. His insides were dieing from the toxicity, the contents of his belly bubbling up to his throat. Warren pushed past anyone in his way, and ran to the bathroom where his raw guilt was spewed before him in an unsanitary toilet.

He didn't know how long he sat there with his back against the stall and his face moist with his own tears. Someone had knocked on the stall, asking if he was cool, and he didn't even have the strength to answer. He banged his head back against the stall, trying to keep his sobs quiet. He covered his mouth with his swelling hands, his lips tasting the blood. It tasted bitter, igniting the toxic flame within him once more. He leaned over the toilet, retching and spitting out his own saliva. His stomach was empty, and that emptiness spread through him.

Warren had never hurt someone like that before. Warren was always the one getting shoved into lockers and pushed around in the locker rooms. Warren was the butt of the joke. He saw the graffiti around school, and he got all the nasty messages left on his whiteboard. Warren had taken it because it wasn't that bad. He could handle a cruel joke or a shove. He could get over it.

But, this was something he would never get over. As he sat in that stall next to the pot of his spew, he tried making excuses, reasons for his doings. He told himself Nathan deserved it, but every time that thought crossed his mind, so did the image of Nathan's broken, terrified eyes.

Part of Warren was angry with Max and her friend. Did they enjoy watching? Did they enjoy the agony he had put upon Nathan? They didn't stop him, but they had stayed for the show. They thought he was amazing for helping them, a personal superhero. How could someone watch another human being beat another? He wasn't anything like Nathan...?

No, Max had been right about that.

Warren was worse than Nathan. Warren didn't feel human anymore.

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He had found his strength once needles started pricking at his legs and bottom, and Warren left the stall. He did the best he could to wash the bitter taste of his vomit from his mouth, and he even considered using the pink goo in the soap dispenser. Anything tasted better than this.

Splashing and rubbing the cold water on his inflamed face helped little. Warren left the bathroom with a damp face, and wandered back to the dormitories.

He had thought of going against was his heart told him, but he needed to know. He needed to see him. He needed to see Nathan Prescott and confirm what happened. Warren tried to remember what had happened, but it was a quick blur of hatred and pain. His knuckles were on fire now, and he rubbed them painfully, hoping it would trigger his memory.

Reaching the dorms, he stared at the door. What was he going to do...? Go find Nathan and merely apologize? Warren wasn't sure if he would speak due to the tightness in his throat. His eyes were beginning to burn again, and he rubbed at the with his bruised hand. He winced, pulling back and rubbing at his sore knuckles. Every scab and bruise was there, tender with every touch. Warren had done something so awful, and this was the undeniable proof. There was no excusing his actions, and Warren could feel the chunk of humanity that once occupied his soul fading.

Taking in a deep breath, Warren pushed the door open slowly, sliding in and letting the door close loudly. The moment he lay his dark eyes upon the very spot, he felt his body stiffen, and his heart sink down to occupy his empty belly. Dragging his feet, he cautiously walked to area where he spotted small stains. They were drops, but they were enough to make Warren choke. He rubbed at his face, the images racing back to him and through his mind. Nathan laying on his side as Warren kicked him, grunting and shouting at him without ever pushing back. Warren getting on his knees and slamming his fist into Nathan's face, ignoring any pleas and cries. Nathan begging him to stop. Warren only hitting harder. Warren being pulled up and Nathan shielding himself from anymore harm, tears mixing with blood. Warren meeting Nathan's gaze.

"Oh, God..." Warren said through his hands. The guilt was no longer toxic fumes, but ice. Numbingly painful ice that spread throughout his veins and into his heart. He shivered, attempting to calm his breathing. Warren felt like he was suffocating, and he knew he couldn't just go back to his dorm. Turning on his heal, he was ready to sprint for the door and do a repeat of earlier. Only, he stopped when he saw a familiar red figure curled up in the corner beside the door.

His breath hitched in his voice, his eyes widening and his mouth parting. Nathan quickly buried his face in his arms and knees, curling up more and visibly shaking much worse than Warren. Nathan had been watching him, and now he was trying to hide in hopes that Warren would just ignore him. But, how could he?

Overwhelmed with emotion, Warren remained there. Nathan was mumbling something to himself much too quietly for Warren to make out, and barely rocking himself. Warren's legs moved on their own, and he approached Nathan. Nathan stiffened, as though preparing himself. The act, even though slight, was enough to crush Warren.

"Nathan..." Warren breathed out, finding his voice racked with guilt and pity. Nathan twitched, only burying himself deeper. Nathan shook his head, and Warren could feel the heavy air around of the two of them weighing in on him, bringing him to his knees in front of Nathan. Nathan could sense him, and pushed himself so painfully tight against the wall. With his throbbing knuckles and trembling fingers, Warren reached out and touched Nathan's arm.

Nathan jerked away, their eyes meeting, and he reached out and shoved Warren back. "No! Get o-out..." Nathan sucked in a painful gasp. "...outta my f-face..." Nathan winced, turning away. Warren sat on his bottom in slight shock, unstable hands pressed firmly against the ground to hold himself up. Nathan's words held no venom, only agony. Warren had never know a pair of eyes to become so torn apart and shattered.

"I'm..." Warren swallowed harshly. "I'm _so sorry_..."

Nathan didn't say anything.

Warren pushed himself back up, and reached out for him again, this time keeping his grip firm. Nathan tried to push him away again to no avail, panting loudly and becoming frustrated.

"Nathan, get up," Warren's tone was soft, and he gently tugged at Nathan's arm. Nathan didn't move to get up, he only tried to free his arms. "Let me help you."

"You're not helping!" Nathan coughed, clutching his side. For a moment, icy terror ran through Warren at the thought of Nathan having a broken rib. "D-don't..."

"I'm helping you to your room. Please, Nathan," Warren wrapped Nathan's arm around his shouldered, and reached carefully around his waist.

" _N-no..._ " Nathan's voice was weak, and he fell limply against Warren. Warren huffed, pulling Nathan up. He wasn't too heavy, surprisingly, and Warren managed to balance the two of them. Nathan continued to clutch his side with his free arm, keeping his head down and breathing heavily, wincing every so often. Taking slow steps, they headed down the hall with Warren whispering encouragements and apologies.

They reached Nathan's door, and Warren noticed that the handle was busted. His mind flashed back to Max, and he sighed. Luckily, Nathan was too out of it to notice. Warren was able to push the door open, kicking it shut with his foot.

The room was dark, the only light coming from the projector mounted on the ceiling. Nathan's bed was big, and surprisingly made. Before setting him down, Warren pushed away a few pictures that were scattered and set them on the floor. He carefully sat Nathan down, cringing at every painful moan and involuntary yelp that escaped Nathan's bloody lips. _"Fuck."_

"Lay down. Careful," Warren mumbled, helping Nathan lay flat on his back. Warren stared at the projector screen, instantly noticing the movie that was playing, but not paying it much thought. He reached for the projector remote on the night stand, shutting it off and allowing the room to go dark. Warren went to turn on the lamp, only to find it was broken. There was enough light for him to see the room, but he didn't pay much attention to his surroundings. He was more focused on helping Nathan.

Warren sat down on the bed beside Nathan, and studied his face. Nathan was staring up at his ceiling, brows furrowed and eyes lidded. His heavy hands rested on his stomach, and Warren watched his chest rise and fall. Nathan turned his head to look at Warren, and Warren grimaced at the swelling and blood. Warren stood, heading for the door.

"I'll be right back. I'm gonna grab something to clean you up with." he said, not waiting for a reply as he left.

He came back moments later with one of the first aid kits the dormitory kept around. He had also grabbed a washcloth and his morning mug filled with hot water. Juggling the items and attempting to not spill the water, he set them on the night stand. Nathan hadn't moved from the bed, only turning his head to watch Warren come in. Warren sat back on the bed, sighing.

"I need you to sit up." Warren said apologetically.

Nathan shot him a glare, but eventually found strength to sit up. Warren dipped the washcloth in the warm water, wringing it out. He scooted closer to Nathan, gently pressing the cloth against his cheek. Nathan hissed, jerking away.

"Sorry, sorry," Warren reached out once more, his free hand grabbing Nathan's chin and forcing him to stay still. Nathan continued to grunt and wince with every touch. He tired to be as gentle as he could, but the blood had caked in some places. The blood made Warren queasy, but he pulled through and focused on helping. When he rinsed the washcloth, the water turned a disgusting rust color.

Nathan's face was red from the constant rubbing, and the bruising seemed puffier than before. Warren pressed the washcloth against Nathan's busted lip, feeling him twitch in response. Warren continued to murmur apologies.

It took a long time, and the air around them was heavy with awkwardness and unfamiliar feelings, but Warren managed to get Nathan's face cleaned up the best he could. The bruises were dark against Nathan's pale skin, and Warren still couldn't comprehend that they were put their by his own hand.

"I am so sorry, Nathan." Warren hung his head, running his fingers over the bloodstained material in his hand. "I'm sorry, so sorry. "

Nathan glanced down at Warren's hands, shaking his head.

"You were right." Nathan's voice was barely audible. Warren peered up at him, his face twisted in a sad grimace. "I hurt people."

Warren didn't reply. What could he say? No, Nathan, I was wrong? You're a good guy? If he were being honest, he did want to say those things just to give Nathan some comfort, even if it was bullshit. Instead, he settled for, "I shouldn't have hit you."

Nathan scoffed, wrapping his jacket closer around him. "You shouldn't've stopped..."

"What?" Warren's eyes narrowed.

Nathan turned away from him, shivering and murmuring, "...should've ended it..." His hands balled into fists. "...I'm a piece of shit..." Nathan sucked in a gasp only for it to turn into a sob. Warren stared at him in shock.

"Y-you..." Warren's voice trailed off.

Nathan brought his knees to chest, biting his already busted lip to prevent him from crying out. "Leave," he breathed out. "J-just...leave me alone."

Warren wasn't sure what it was. Perhaps it was knowing that he had caused Nathan so much pain, but Warren had a feeling that the pain was already there. Nathan was the human embodiment of pain, and it was clear to Warren. Nathan hadn't fought him back, not even a little. Nathan barely tried to protect himself, the only thing defending him were his words. But, his words had been meaningless to Warren in his blinded rage, but now he heard them clearly.

Warren's chin and lip quivered, his throat tightening. His arms reached out, wrapping around Nathan. Nathan began rigid before trying to pull away. Warren refused to let him go, only moving and positioning them to be as close as Warren could manage with Warren kneeling between Nathan's legs and his arms around his shoulders carefully. He could feel Nathan panicking.

"It's okay." Warren whispered. "I'm sorry, Nathan. Really, I am."

Nathan's shaking fists gripped at Warren's shirt, and Warren could feel him trembling and breaking against him. Nathan gave into him, cautiously trailing his cold hands around to Warren's back, and holding him back. Warren felt the heat leaving his body and into Nathan, who was alarmingly cool. It only made Warren hold him tighter. The only thing warm about Nathan was his breath against Warren's shoulder as he buried his face.

Nathan was breathing against him, Warren was very much aware of that. Nathan had a rapid heart beat, pounding against his chest. Nathan had a voice, and he had eyes that held more raw emotions than Warren knew what to do with. Nathan was pressed against him, seeking comfort, craving contact.

Nathan Prescott was merely his name. For just being a name, though, it seemed like it was everything. Ask anyone around and they will tell you who Nathan Prescott is, who a Prescott is suppose to be. But, now Warren had a feeling it was something more than that. There was more than just is name. There was a person attached to that name, and that was something that Warren had seemed to of forgotten.

He had passions, fears, troubles, tastes, desires and personality just like Warren did, and yet Warren tried to trample all over those things. Just from looking around his room, by looking at his clothing, by looking at him Warren could see it. Nathan Prescott wasn't just his name.

Of course.

Warren wanted nothing more than to fix what he had broken. But, he knew it would never be the same. After all, if a bowel breaks and you glue it back together, water will still leak through the cracks. Warren ran his bruised hand over the back of Nathan's head, smoothing out his hair.

"Why are you still here...?" Nathan's voice was timid, muffled by Warren's shoulder.

He was there because the icy guilt was beginning to slowly melt into something else. The throbbing in his head was nothing but a sour memory, and he was finding comfort in the steadily warming embrace of Nathan. Perhaps he was selfish and was seeking out his own comfort rather than Nathan's, or maybe it had been both. Warren wasn't too sure anymore.

He was there because the echoing pleas in his mind were fading and his own self loathing was melting in the ice. Nathan was no longer freezing, and Warren was only getting warmer. His thoughts of earlier were being pushed out by new ideas, unbelievable and ridiculous.

Though him and Nathan were the same, they could never be friends. That was how it worked. They were the same but different. But, that was the fun of it, right?

Warren pulled back slightly, studying Nathan's face. His eyes scanned over the purple blotches and the small amount of blood dribbling from Nathan's lip and down his chin. Warren used his thumb to wipe Nathan's chin, the liquid warm. Those eyes that had showed fear and agony were much calmer, but Warren could detect traces of such things in the waves of blue. Such a contrast against his own dark ones, and Warren wondered if his own emotions were masked by the darkness while Nathan's were brought to light. Could it be that simple?

Warren leaned in, and it was quick. Their lips met for approximately three seconds before sharp intake caused Warren to pull back. He wasn't sure if Nathan noticed what had actually happened, because he didn't seem to react, aside from the hiss of pain. Nathan continued to look at him, but his grip on Warren's shirt only tightened, giving indication that Nathan knew exactly what happened. The evidence was left on Warren's lip, after all.

Warren licked at that lip and tasted the blood, unsure of what to do next. A feeling fluttered in his gut, and he blurted out, "You're not alone."

Nathan's eyes narrowed, and Warren tasted blood once more. This time, it lasted much longer than three seconds, and seemed a lot less painful. Warren wasn't experienced, but Nathan seemed to be. A tongue pried open his mouth and flicked his own.

Light wet smacking and heavy puffs of breath filled the dark room now, and Warren was pulling off the red jacket, tossing it to the floor before working on the buttons of Nathan's cardigan. Nathan's hands were already under Warren's shirt, clawing at his skin. Pulling away for air, both of Warren's shirts and Nathan's cardigan were pulled off. Warren reached of Nathan's shirt, but when Nathan lifted his arms they quickly dropped as he gasped quietly. When the shirt was gone, the true realization hit Warren.

Bruises of all shades and sizes lay upon Nathan's pale skin, and that wasn't it. Warren never realized just how thin Nathan was until he ran his fingers of the bumps of Nathan's ribs. Wanting to take the focus off his body, Nathan reached out and pressed his hot mouth against Warren's neck, nipping and sucking. It was enough to distract his mind for a second, but he tried to focus.

"Nathan-"

"Shut up."

"N-"

"Please, just-" Nathan pulled away from his neck, desperation and clouded desires surprising Warren. "-just shut up." Warren felt that Nathan wasn't trying to be a jerk, and he just didn't know what else to say. Their lips met once more, and Warren carefully pushed Nathan back against the bed. Nathan's nails dug painfully into his back, but Warren didn't mind. Warren pressed his moist lips against Nathan's neck down to his collar bone. His tongue left a trail of saliva down Nathan's rising chest, and he stopped to kiss a particularly large bruise, hearing Nathan suck in a quick breath. That breath hitched when Warren placed his palm over the throbbing bulge in Nathan's jeans.

With nervous fingers, Warren managed to pop open the button and tug down the zipper. The jeans were pulled off and joined the other clothes piled on the floor. Warren's tongue swirled around Nathan's navel before following the light hairs trailing down to the hem of his dark red boxers. Warren swallowed before placing his open mouth over the bulge, his saliva soaking the material as he gave light sucks. Nathan's back arched up slightly, and he attempted to swallow the moan bubbling in his throat.

Nathan bit the back of his hand, keeping himself quiet while his other hand tangled in Warren's tousled locks, jerking him up. Warren moved away from the bulge and their tongues met. Warren's jeans were kicked off, and the grinding, the friction, only became more electric.

This was a craving. A craving for contact, for a mouth pressed against his own, for nails raking down his back, for throbbing against his own, for a breath that wasn't his own, for _this._ Warren was aware of how wrong this was. This was unhealthy, and he was sure Nathan knew it, too. Neither of them cared. What was to happen when they were finished? Was it just a passing moment? A temporary desire?

Boxers were jerked down and it was flesh on flesh. This was it. This was the raw feeling between them that kept no secrets. Nathan's eyes were clouded with need, and his bruised face was covered with a light layer of sweat, flushing his skin was pulsing desire. Warren wondered for only a moment if Nathan could see it in him, too. He wondered if Nathan knew the ice was melted and temporarily replaced with fire. Not the toxic fumes, but the heated breaths. He had to know.

With their bodies entwined and brought together, the true emotion showed itself, and it was the first time this week, perhaps even the first time ever, that Warren felt completely human.

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 **Let's pretend I write sexy time well.  
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 **It'll be fun.**

 **Thanks for reading**

 **xLazyxWriterx**


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